Hold the line
by Ollybraps
Summary: SEAL Team whump focusing around Clay and Sonny
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone, this is the second story I'm doing. After doing my first story I found that I liked writing the whump more than I liked writing the actual combat. I think for this story I'm going to do a collection of whump focusing on Clay and Sonny.

For the timeline of the story, I think I'll start after they come back from Mexico with an alternate timeline while they were there and then get to the current timeline with the show

* * *

Clay kicked over a beer bottle as he trotted out of his bedroom. His apartment was a mess, days of empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, and cans, strewn all over the floor. Opening the fridge he discovered the fridge to contain a pizza box. He took it out and set it on the counter expecting it to contain his breakfast. "For fuck's sake," he muttered as he opening the lid, seeing no pieces. Clay tossed the box into the trash as he walked over to the couch, sitting in his spot, normally Stella would snuggle up against him her head on his chest as they watched a movie they selected.

Clay slipped into semi-consciousness as he reminisced Stella, the girl who he thought would become his wife. The memory that he dived into this time was from a couple months ago, well before Stella had become uncertain of their future together. Clay had just come back from an op in Cameroon where he had caught a piece of frag, shielding Cerberus from the suicide bomber that had cornered the team in a dead-end alley. The injury seemed at first to be minor, a mere flesh wound, but when they were getting off the helicopter to get dejocked, he collapsed, yards from the C17. The wound had already gone septic, sending him into a delusional fever. Spenser was hurriedly transferred to a military hospital in Germany where he spent two weeks, recovering. In the two weeks, Stella had been in a worried frenzy, wondering if he would come home to sweep her off her feet. When he, did Stella was overjoyed, throughout the two weeks there had been many sleepless nights, tears, all triggered through the fear of losing Clay.

As they lay on the couch, Stella in Clay's arms, carefully avoiding his wound, the pair of them felt a sense of security that neither of them had ever experienced with someone before.

 _"What did I tell you, I always come home"_

 _"Did I ever doubt you"_

Clay's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Slightly annoyed he walked over to the door He opened the door six inches, his body standing behind it to guard his emotional mess, to find Sonny standing at the door, his arms crossed, his facing wearing a serious but worried look. Spenser had seen that look only once before, _I've only seen him like this when he found out about Stella leaving, he knows something's up_

"Hey, Big Shooter, you haven't returned my calls or texts," Sonny said. Clay shifted, he rarely ever did that.

"My phone was off" Clay lied, he hated doing it, he knew that it never panned out, lying to a teammate.

"But it says read" Sonny pulled his phone out, showing Clay their texts.

"Must have slipped my mind" Clay muttered, staring at this shoes as if they would provide the answer for why he hasn't responded

"Clay" Sonny drawled

"Uh, I have to go," Spenser said starting to close the door

"Blondie, I swear to god, if you don't open this damn door I will kick it off its hinges," Sonny said, stepping forward, putting his forearm on the door. Not in an attempt to prevent him from closing the door but showing Clay he worried about him, trying to show he cared. Clay closed the door and slid his back down the door until he was sitting on the floor. As he leaned back against the door his heart felt a heavy pang. Days before when Stella had come to collect the last of her stuff from Clay's apartment, him saying "I didn't die in Mexico" backfired almost immediately. Stella nearly broke right in front of him, something that neither expected to happen. After Clay put the key on the TV stand he paced around the apartment for a few minutes, all of the places he tried sitting feeling uncomfortable and unnatural. He finally settled on sitting with his back against the door, the only place he could feel close to Stella. Little did he know, Stella had walked around the end of the hallway and into the stairwell, She closed the heavy stairwell door behind her and slid down the door until she was on the floor. Stella hugged her legs and let the tears silently stream down her face. She and Clay sat there for nearly two hours, each wishing the other there. Clay nearly called her twice, but stopped himself, he didn't know why, but he hated himself for it.

Sonny walked out of Clay's apartment building and sat in his truck. "The fuck is wrong with the kid". Sonny had never seen Clay like this, sure he had his demons, he had tried to shut out the world after Alana died, but it had been Clay that got through to him, found him in the backseat of Sonny's truck outside of his house. He had been hugging himself, lines of tears down his face. Clay found him like that, he knew he left the reception at Jason's house, he knew that Sonny was struggling to hide his emotions behind his thick Texan shell, but he didn't expect to find him like that, sobbing in the backseat of a pickup truck. Clay had left Stella at Jason's house in order to go find Sonny. Clay took Sonny's keys and drove out to a field in rural Virginia where they spent the night, drinking and shooting the shit. Sonny realized that he had to do something just like that for Spenser, or his demons would eat him alive. Sonny opened the door of his truck and swung his feet out the side, took a deep breath walked back in the building.

Sonny knocked twice on Clay's door "Hey Spens'" his drawl was soft and understanding "Can I come in." There was a long silence before he heard Clay get up off the floor and unlock the door

"Yeah?" Clay asked, standing in the open doorway, his normally proud shoulders slouched, his eyes puffy and red.

"Can I come in?" his genuine concern in his voice showing through

"Yeah" Clay sighed, relieved he had come back to the apartment. Sonny stepped through the open door and shut and locked it behind him. Clay walked over to the couch and slumped into it, mentally and emotionally drained. Sonny quickly noted the state of disarray in Clay's apartment with the beer and pizza

"I uh… like what you did with the place" Said Sonny, his sarcastic, joking nature coming back to him.

"Thanks" he blandly replied. Clay rolled his eyes and stared out of the window. Sonny stooped down to pick up empty beer bottles and discarded pizza boxes and then started stacking them on the kitchen counter. There was a deafening silence for a couple of minutes while Sonny decided his next move. He couldn't remember the last time he had to help a brother through with some mental stuff

"Hey, Carla's is open down the street" Sonny suggested

"Not hungry"

"Look, Wonderboy, I know that Stella and the shit that happened in Mexico aren't making you exactly hungry for anything other than pizza and beer, but you need to go out and get some real food to eat," Sonny said, walking over to stand over Clay. Sonny paused, "And you know you want some of those ribs" he smiled and poked clay in the ribs. A small smile spread across Clay's face as he poked back at Sonny

"Ok fine, just let me get some shoes." Clay got off the couch and walked to his bedroom

"I'll be right here waiting" Sonny replied

() () ()

The two were shown to a seat near the back of the restaurant. Clay ordered the ½ rack of ribs with pit beans and Sonny ordered the pulled pork sandwich with coleslaw. While they waited for the orders the pair were quiet until Sonny broke the silence "Have you talked to Brock about Mexico, I think it would help put your heart at rest" Sonny said, looking up at Clay. Clay lowered his head

"No" He mumbled, his eyes starting to water.

"You know you should, it'll help both you and him," said Sonny, unrolling his utensils.

"I know I should, I feel kinda guilty though, we never should have left the back of that church exposed like that. I should have gone up there when Ray came down." said Clay, looking up to meet Sonny's eyes. Sonny was about to respond when a waiter in a plaid top came and delivered the two plates. Sonny looked up and smiled,

"Thanks". The waiter sweetly smiled back

"My pleasure" She turned around and walked back to the kitchen. Sonny returned his eyes to Clay, a little grin spread across his southern face, despite the topic they were just discussing.

"Eat up there, Stud, it'll make you feel better," Sonny said, picking up his sandwich. Each nickname he dreamt up was something he enjoyed about their friendship. _Actually, this is more than just a friendship, he's my brother_. Sonny meant every word of it, from the first op they rolled on together, Abu Samir, he knew that Spenser was something special, but until he saved he saved his ass in Afghanistan by schwacking three talis' did he call him his brother. Now there was no one he would rather trust with his life. Truth be told, all of the Bravo guys thought of Spenser as the little brother they never had. They all gave him shit and they all took a shit, but they would knock anyone who did so little as to touch their boy straight onto their ass. Sonny was definitely the closest with the kid, however, when he found Sonny in the back seat of his truck, the tough outer shell that everyone knew had melted away revealing the raw and hurt Texan soul. Spenser consoled and comforted him, but never told anyone else about what he saw. By showing his soft belly Sonny felt more at home with Spenser, and that was saying something.

Sonny finished his meal and got up to pay the bill, something that under normal circumstances the two would jokingly bicker about until the "loser" got up to pay. He returned with the receipt and grabbed Spenser and walked him briskly outside and into the truck. "You want to tell me why we left so fast?" Spenser inquired once he closed the door, Sonny didn't answer instead he pointed. Stella and two of her girlfriends walking in the door. Clay started for the door handle but Sonny locked it before he could get to it.

"Here is not the place or time," Sonny said, his southern drawl softening again. Clay started for the door again

"Hey," Sonny said lightly grabbing onto Spenser's arm, "You love her, I get that, but here, at a diner in front of all her girlfriends, is not the place you want to be making up". Clay sat back in his seat

"Please let's just go back to your place and we can hang for the rest of the afternoon"

"Fine, let's go," Clay said, putting his seatbelt on.

"Thank you" Sonny flashed his good ol' boy smile and let go of Clay's arm. He back out and drove started down the avenue back towards the apartment

* * *

Thanks for reading! I know that this one is short but I definitely liked writing this whump more than I liked writing my last story. Something satisfying about getting into the emotions of the characters ;). Definitely more to come but I do have exams coming up in the next two weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Hold the Lone Chapter 2

 _Alrighty folks, finals are over for me but I'm still on exam break so we can get some writing done. I got a lot of requests to answer the question of what happened to Brock in Mexico, so I think I'll answer that in this chapter._

 **Four Weeks Later**

 _It has been four weeks since we saw Clay and Sonny at the diner, A lot has happened since then, they captured the "Unicorn of Special Operations" when they took an airplane full of hostages, Sonny found the emotional home of Lisa, and they rescued a scared American Girl from ISIS_

Sonny woke up with a start, he had dropped his beer bottle and it was now fizzing out over the floor. His lip began to tremble as he remembered why he was on his couch with a beer. Lisa and OCS, the pamphlet, the night he spent at her place. The night at her place, Sonny sighed as he rolled over so that his face was buried in the back of the couch. How Lisa had melted away the tough outer skin of the hurting operator, showed him, showed him why he needed to love somebody. His mind flicked through the evening and the following days, her gentle words repeating themselves around the inside of his head like a broken record. All of this came clattering down when the movie in his head reached the point where he lashed out at Lisa in the cages, his knee jerk reaction to what he felt was being abandoned. Sonny was so desperately sorry for what he did, he didn't know why he did what he did, and god knows he tried to figure out a reason _Why'd you do this to me, to us, Lisa,_ Sonny said to himself _I know that we haven't had this thing going for very long but I love you, you're the one, you the one for me_ Sonny was hugging himself tightly he lay on the couch a single tear dripped out of his eye, he quickly wiped it away, trying to regain his tough outer shell. For some reason in the past couple of weeks he had become strangely more human, his emotions poking through once in a while, and not always in an aggressive manner.

Sonny swung his legs over the edge of the couch, about to get up to get a cloth to wipe up the spilled beer on his floor when his phone went off, the call to go that said _It's time to go save the world_. "Christ," Sonny rolled his eyes and picked up his phone. He dialed Blackburn's number, a little annoyed if he was honest, "We've been home for four days, do we really need to go again."

"We wouldn't call you if you didn't"

"Fuck," Sonny mumbled "I'm on my way"

Sonny grabbed a cloth and quickly wiped his mess up before he heeded out the door and into his truck. He was quickly waved through by the gate guard before he pulled up in his reserved spot at the Dam Neck Annex. Sonny exited the truck, he forced himself to hold his head high when he walked through the door, his cowboy boots sounding out on the tiled floor.

Walking into the briefing room he discovered he was the last to arrive, even the Kid had beaten him there. Despite his initial performance of showing up way early to his first team briefing, he had discovered that it was still acceptable if he strolled in a couple minutes "Late". When he spotted Lisa his breath caught in his throat. His normal seat was still open, but so was the seat across from her. The rest of the team was caught up in conversation among themselves and it wasn't the first time he had sat across from her so it probably wouldn't be picked up as weird by the guys. Sonny swallowed hard and did what he thought was the right thing, he strode up, his usual confident gate closing the distance in no time.

"Hey," He said gently "This seat taken?"

"Nope" Lisa said, she completely understood where Sonny was coming from when he lashed out at her. The man she knew for all of those years, the one who was never good with feelings, the proud Texan who had admitted to her that night he came to her place, saying beers with her were better, that emotions scared him, that he had been feeling a hole in his heart, one that he couldn't fill with the Jack Daniels and strippers. She was instantly transported back to that night. The two of them were on the couch, A movie was on in the background, although neither were watching. Her head was laid across the top of his chest, her body comfortably snuggled up against him. _Lisa_ he said _I think you already know this being the cunning girl you are, but feelings scare me something bad_. She smiled up at him _And?_ She said _And I'm scared shitless right about now_ Lisa grinned, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek _That makes two of us Cowboy_

Sonny started, shooting her back to reality "Lisa, I'm so so-"

She shushed him

"Don't you start with that, I never should have kept OCS from you, your my best friend and I- " Davis was never able to say what she wanted because Harrington stood up and strode to the front of the room.

"Alright people, to continue this brief, we need you to all verbally acknowledge complete secrecy with the following brief and mission."

Glances were exchanged around the room as they all complied with the requirements.

"This following mission is of immediate national security, we have a reconnaissance mission into a nuclear capable enemy state".

"Don't tell me we're going to Iran," Said Brock a small smile going across his face "The last time we were there-" If looks could kill, Brock would be currently six feet under. "I mean heh-heh, I've never been to Iran, I hear its nice this time of year" He shrugged a look of _I have absolutely no idea what your talking about_ written all over his face. Trent rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to hide a boyish grin that spread from ear to ear

"No, we are _not_ going to Iran, and as far as I'm concerned we've never been inside the borders, ain't that right, Petty Officer Reynolds" Said Harrington crossing his arms,

"Absolutely right, Sir"

"Good, glad we got that cleared up where four of you will be going is North Korea, we have an intel source that claims that an Iranian container ship that apparently went missing a while ago. It has turned up in North Korea and is supposedly going to be leaving with a special Cargo "

Jason was the first to interject "Why can't we get a recon bird or the regular navy to do some aerial recon on this"

Harrington unfolded his arms and strode over to lean against one of the tables, "Nope, that's a no go, we need some on the ground human recon, and we don't want to blow any of our assets in NK to do it"

"So you want special recon in an enemy territory, that I might add is not on especially friendly terms with us" Ray said, trying to poke a hole in the mans request

"Yes, and it wasn't me that wanted this mission, this one was authorized by the oval office" the Commanding Officer said, trying to get the men to see that this was not just his idea

"So why not get the Ranger Recon guys to do it, Recon is literally in their name" Trent said, twiddling a pen in between his fingers

"Because the President and JSOC specifically asked for your team in particular, well mostly JSOC but that's not the point" Harrington countered, the tension in his voice somewhat apparent now

"Aw shit, this can't be good"

Harrington then finished the brief and then set it off to the guys to start the mission planning. Because of the importance of the mission, it had to be rechecked by Harrington at the end of the planning session to make sure it had as low a chance as possible to kick off a shooting war with the North Koreans. As they were getting up to leave Sonny stopped Clay before they walked up the stairs towards the cages

"Hey, Clay" Sonny said, putting his hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Clay turned around "What's up"

"Have you had the chance to talk to Brock about what happened"

"About what happened in Mexico?"

"Yeah, in Mexico" Sonny, after being down there for only a few weeks, and being in the thick of the slums and underground of Mexico, had come to see that place as hell on earth. It seemed that everyone was out to kill each other in the most brutal ways they could think up. He had seen mothers strung up on meat hooks for simply disagreeing with Doza. Kids no more than twelve being used to transport and make the drugs. He shuddered when the words _Mexico_ came out of his lips

"I, uh, went over to his house yesterday and we talked over a couple of beers"

"And…" Sonny said, trying to pry the answer from the Kid's mouth

"I think uh," Clay said rubbing the back of his neck, his shoes suddenly becoming intensely fascinating "I think it went well"

"Oh yeah, I can tell," Sonny said sarcastically "hey, Clay, look at me," Clay looked up "What happened was never your fault and no one on this team or any other will blame you for what happened"

Clay nodded, he still doubted what all of the guys, even Brock was saying, but he nodded and agreed with them just so they would get off his case.

Sonny grinned and started up the stairs, "Lets go get our shit ready GQ"

* * *

 _Mexican Church_

 _Seven Weeks Ago_

"All callsigns, this is Bravo Five, there's too many coming up the back, I need to fall back to the main strongpoint" The nervousness in the mans voice coming through on the radio. Normally the most level headed of the group was now feeling the heat.

"Copy Five, fall back" Said Jason, defending firing towards the door, holding back the Cartel's men. When there was no answer he tried him again

"Bravo Five do you copy? Fall back" Jason said, his aim still true on the doors.

"Bravo Five, radio check" Hayes said once again into his microphone

"Five, radio check, over," Jason said letting go of his rifle and letting it hang down by his side, "C'mon Brock, answer the damn radio"

In the room where Lazo lay dead, Brock was now firing down the hallway that led to the back door. The cartel members had shot off the padlock that kept the backdoor closed, now they were coming in hot and heavy. He dropped back inside the door way, changing his mag, "Bravo One this is Five, they've breached the back door and are coming down my hallway towards you guys". Inside the church everyone took a breath of relief, he was still alive, and apparently not hurt

"Copy Five, can you hold them off?" Jason asked, hoping the answer was yes

"Negative One, I have two mags remaining, and they are coming in by the handful"

"Copy, Sending Six to you now" Jason said, picking his rifle up and shooting the Mexican that had revealed his head in one of the lower windows

"Changing Mag! Clay, go help Brock" Jason shouted.

"Check, moving now" Clay responded, he lowered his rifle and turned towards where Brock was. Whenever the bullets started flying, Bravo, with all of their banter, and joking, suddenly became a well oiled, deadly machine. Each operator seemed to know exactly where to shoot and under the command of the legendary Jason Hayes, they were able to achieve a rate of mission success never seen before.

The hallway in question was about thirty feet long, with one end leading outside, and the other leading towards the main area of the church. In roughly the middle, there was a door way that lead to the father's chambers. Was just about to poke his head out to drop the two men that had entered when he saw clay look down the hallway, his body hidden behind the door frame. Unfortunately, for both, the two men also saw him. The backed up towards the outer door when one pulled something out of his pocket, at first it made Clay feel a sense of curiosity, only when the man had pulled the pin and wound back to throw it did it register with him, that the object was indeed a grenade. It was almost as if time stood still, it was fractions of a second during the time it took Clay to fully enter the hallway, raise his rifle, shoot both men centre of mass, and have them drop dead before they even hit the floor. But alas, it was too late, he had already lobbed it. The it hit the ground ten feet from him, the spoon popped off it and rolled to a stop a mere five feet from where he was standing "Shit". At that point training kicked in and he did what Adam had said after he had jumped on the dummy grenade. He dived, feet towards the blast, hoping his armour would catch most of the shrapnel. At the same instance, Brock turned to shield his face.

A horrible explosion was what followed. The shrapnel, the splinters, the flame. Sonny was the first to react, "Motherfucker, do I have to do everything around here" The brute of a Texan stopped shooting at the front door and snapped around and fired a long burst down the hallway which was almost directly behind him. "Wrong guy to fuck with shit heads" He then calmly walked towards where Clay was bringing himself off the floor, "You OK kid?" he said, sling his weapon and putting his hand on the stunned Clay's shoulder

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm good," Clay said, catching the breath that had been knocked out of him "Go find Brock"

"Bravo five this is Bravo Three, Comms check over," Sonny said, desperately hoping for a return

"Hey three, this is five, my ears are ringing a little bit but other than that I'm good to go" Brock leaned his head out of the door way, trying to see Sonny through the smoke

"Check Five, I'm coming to you now" He said, the relief in his voice speaking for his current emotions. Sonny stepped forwards into the smoke, edging his feet along, his left hand brushing up against the wall to keep his bearings. Suddenly, his the floor gave out under his front foot, Sonny started falling but caught himself on the floor. The fall had knocked the wind out of him and he was gasping for air as he pulled himself up and onto the floor. He got up onto his hands and knees trying to catch his breath. It reminded him of the time he fell off the merry go round while at the playground when he was five. He had lost his grip on the metal bar and was flung ten feet onto his stomach.

"Fuck…Floor…Give out…Winded" Sonny said through the unmistakeable breaths of someone who had the wind knocked out of him. Clay got up to his feet, and walked over Sonny,

"Come on Sonny, lets get you some cover," He picked him up by the shoulder strap of his vest and dragged him back towards the entrance of the tunnel. He knelt down and looked at Sonny who was back on his hands and knees "You good?" Sonny coughed twice and got up to a half kneel. "Yeah, I'm good". Clay walked back towards the edge of where the hallway dropped off. The hole was from edge to edge and stretched four feet down the hallway, ending just before where Brock was sheltered.

"You good Brock?" Clay didn't use the radio instead he shouted. He knew that Sonny had already asked that but a double check had never hurt anybody.

"Yeah," Brock said, leaning his head out into the hallway, "I rolled out of the way in time, good thing to hey, 'massive piece of shrapnel where my head was about a second before"

"Good thing hey," Clay said, looking for a way that didn't involve going outside and around the church. Just then he looked up, his eyes landing on a head that was poking in the outside doorway. He then saw a muzzle poke through the crack, "Hey, Brock, do me a favour,"

"Yeah kid"

"Get your head back" Clay said in a calm tone

"Hey?"

"Get back…Now" Clay once again used a calm tone but his voice carried a little more force

Clay raised his weapon and pointed it at the door, he was aiming at door-knob level, ready to disembowel anyone that came through the door. Just then the hallway exploded in gunfire, splinters and noise. The rifle poking through the door had shot first, clay then emptying his magazine to where he presumed the person on the other side of the door was standing. The gun dropped, and he presumed his shots successful, but alas, he was wrong, five large men then stormed through the door with speed that he had not yet seen from the cartel. The sprayed the hallway with automatic gun fire. Somewhere behind him Sonny stepped into the hallway, emptying his belt at the foes. Brock started firing and dropped one of the Mexicans, They dropped back out the door way and started blind firing down the hallway in the presumed direction of the SEALs. In the midst of the flying lead Brock collected two shots in his shoulder and a piece of shrapnel had embedded itself in his side which immediately caused him to fall back inside the pastor's room.

Clay during all the mayhem had stayed lying on the floor, he didn't bother changing his magazine, he was out as well and it would have done no good. Sonny ran foreward, pulling him out of the hallway just as Clay had done for him. The two reached the end of the hallway and Sonny pulled him seated against the wall and kneeled in front of him.

"Brother, you can't be scaring me like that" Sonny said, Clay's eyes still set straight forward

"Fuck, Sonny, I think Brock was hit" Clay looked Sonny in the eye, his deep blue eyes penetrating his. Sonny then stood up and looked down the hallway. With his deep Texan drawl he got on the radio,

"Brock you good"

"Fuck, man," His voice sounded desperate, he had been shot before, he had been stabbed, he had taken a piece of shrapnel from an IED in Iraq during OIF when he was a rookie on task force bruiser, the infamous unit that helped in the battle for Ramadi.

"They fucking got me, I think…" He gulped hard, forcing his pained voice to sound somewhat normal, "I think I have two in the shoulder, and there's a piece of what I think is shrapnel sticking into me"

Trent was next to get on the radio, "Hang in there buddy, we'll come get you soon, don't you worry about it,"

"I'm trying Trent" there was a long break, Brock still held down his push-to-talk, letting all the guys hear his laboured breathing "Please help me, there's so much blood"

Line

Clay got up, his eyes were now a cold blue, he was trying to muster enough hate to face the cartel once again. He slung his rifle and drew his pistol, low crawling his way towards the hole in the floor, trying to keep a watchful eye on both the doorway brock was slouched in, and the rear door. All most as if the cartel had a sixth sense, two guys popped in the doorway spraying and praying. The world for clay was once again plunged into chaos, the walls, floors and ceiling were erupting in shards of wood and plaster, raining down onto the young operator. He did what was natural, he curled up in a ball, his back facing the shooters. "NOOOOO" He screamed, tears suddenly streaming down his face. Clay's mind was going a million miles an hour, he thought about how he might never get to Brock in time, how he might get shot and killed and let his own team down, never be able to show his father that he was the better man. "NOHOHO" He choked, the shooters pulled back out of the door way, their magazines empty.

Sonny cautiously entered the hallway, his weapon at his hip pointed at the door. Inching his feet forward he grabbed hold of Clay's flak jacket, unsure if he was hit. It had started to become the routine in trying to get to Brock, a highly dangerous and costly routine. Clay rolled, causing Sonny to lose his grip. Sonny knelt down, his eyes wavering between Clay and the back door, in an almost whisper he gently tugged on his vest.

"Let's go kid, we can't have get hit now as well"

He looked up at Sonny "But Brock is still back there,"

Sonny looked up at the door just as a cartel member poked his head in quick, he fired a quick burst at the head, missing by a few feet, but it accomplished the intended purpose of forcing the guy to take cover. Sonny reefed on the kids shoulder strap, "I'm not fucking around Clay, let's go".

Clay seemed to get the memo and he scrambled to his feet and retreated back. He stood up against the wall poking his head into the hallway. "Hey Brock,"

Brock weakly responded "Yeah kid,"

"I don't think I can get to you, I'm so sorry, please just hang in there, you got this"

Ray turned his head, a curious look on his face "Any of you hear a truck"

"Yeah," Trent responded "But didn't the rescue convoy say they'd be about twenty minutes, and that was five minutes ago"

"Shit, enemy technical, back door, three guys" said Jason swinging his weapon around, starting to move towards Clay and Sonny were standing. Sonny poked his head around the corner to see a cartel member throwing the door open to reveal the truck with an M2 Browning Heavy Machine gun mounted in the bed, now aiming down the hallway.

"Huh" He said, his southern drawl showing

"What, what is it" said Clay

"That's not good"

Just then the heavy chug of the cartel ma deuce ripped through the air, it chewed through the wood, walls, even putting massive holes in the far wall of the church where the rounds passed through. It shredded the pews stacked against the front door, massive exit holes an inch across showing through.

"Fuck every duck" Trent, he dropped himself to a lying position, his eye still on the front door. Clay poked his head around the corner of the hallway to see six cartel members advancing down the hallway slowly inching towards Brock. He quickly aimed his pistol at the cartel members. He fired one shot, five others turned at fired at him. Luckily they all missed, despite shredding Clay's surroundings to splinters. Determined to not give up on his brother, Clay poked his head out again firing again, dropping another. Instead of the cartel members firing back, the mounted fifty cal opened up on him firing a short burst in his direction. It shredded the wood around him and one bullet his rifle, permanently knocking it out of the fight. Clay stared at disbelief at what a single round had done to his rifle, one that had seen a deployment, one that he had fished out of the Atlantic ocean after jumping from a burning oil rig, a rifle that had become an extension of his body. Clay was instantly brought back to reality as they heard five shots fired in rapid succession from where Brock was sheltered. Clay slowly poked his head out from around the corner to see three cartel members, hauling Brock out of where he was sheltered from the fire. He reached for a grenade on his belt and was about to pull the pin out when Sonny grabbed his wrist. In the chaos Clay had failed to realize that the grenade would complete the exact opposite of what he would intend. He had clearly also seen what was happening to Brock, "You throw that grenade, it'll kill him too," Clay nodded and put the grenade back in his pouch "Let me handle it." Sonny stood up and practically jumped into the hallway, immediately spotting his targets

"HEY!" he yelled, the cartel member spun around facing the angry Texan,

"Let. My. Brother. Go." He said, much quieter, but his voice held enough power to stop a Mack truck dead in it's tracks. The cartel members dropped brock and he slumped to the floor, the blood loss heavily weakening him. For a moment, sonny thought that they were going to let him go and get out of the church while they still could. Instead they picked up their weapons. Sonny was only able to kill two of the remaining cartel members before they returned fire on him, one shot hitting his weapon, the other grazing his left hand. He dropped to the floor, he had failed himself, and his team mate. Now Brock's life was out of his hands and into those of his captors.


End file.
